The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 11 - Sex Stories

The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 11

... like me. I'm surrounded day and night by sexy rockstars, and by the way," she gasped, "have you seen the muscles on some of the roadcrew?"

Ace didn't admit it to her, but he'd been checking some of Femboy Hooters' roadies out. They were hot like fire. Some of them had pecs that were nearly as big as tits. "Uhh, yeah." He shook the morning cobwebs out of his head. "I see what you mean."

"So don't fret it, rockstar," she cooed, flicking her hair back. "Wait. Let me put it to you in a different way. There are about twenty musicians on this tour, plus about twenty more crew looking after logistics, and literally thousands in the crowd. They're all men, they're all sexy as fuck, and they're all long-haired metalheads, which means they're all exactly my type. I've seen them staring at me. I know they want me, but I get to choose. I'm the boss, and I call the fuckin' shots. So here's the question. Who's a hot, fuckable trans gal like me sharing her room with?"

She kissed Ace on the cheek.

"My company has organised a late checkout for the entire entourage," she continued, "but unfortunately, the roadcrew have still their shit to do before the next show. You, me and the rest of the musicians can stay here until one o'clock. Buses will be waiting outside to drive us to New Orleans for tomorrow's show, but there's nothing for us to do until then." She checked her phone. "It's almost eleven, so there isn't enough time for you to take me on a hot date to the Austin Museum of ...

... Whatever, but we need to be packed up and ready to go in a couple of hours. We can sleep some more, maybe for an hour or so, if you really want to; or we can fuck some more. It's up to you, rockstar."

"Wanna fuck some more," Ace whispered, drowning in her eyes.

"That's the correct answer," Candii replied. Her artificially plump lips smiled as she wrapped her arm around Ace's neck and pulled him close. They played tonsil hockey for a few sweet minutes, just to warm up.

Elsewhere in the hotel, Pete and Carlos slept in to the max. Pete's guts still felt a little weird from last night, but Carlos had also mastered the art of pulling the blockout blinds down so that the concept of outside morning light was destroyed. The alarm on his phone was set for midday, giving Pete and himself an hour to pack their stuff up, brush their teeth, grab a bite to eat and board the bus before it left. Easy.

Two buses idled outside, prepared for departure to New Orleans precisely at one o'clock. Candii, sexy ballcap on backwards and holding her ever-present clipboard, did a roll call on each bus before rolling out. She winked at Ace when she checked his name off her list. The journey would take about eight hours. The roadcrew had flown to Louisiana earlier in the day, so there was plenty of room on the buses for the musicians to stretch out.

Pete, fresh from a midday breakfast, watched the southern landscape slip by. Trees, grasslands, traffic, buildings, factories, cities. He held a ...